FED FILE

Liesl Gillespie probably has the second-worst political job in America: trying to raise money for Peter Fitzgerald.

The worst, of course, is finance director for Steve Forbes' presidential campaign.

Fund raising for a rich politician is like asking patients to chip in and help buy their doctor a new Mercedes. Unless that physician has saved your life lately, you probably have a much better way to spend your money.

No matter how issues like abortion, Nigeria and Kgosie Matthews play out in this race, Mr. Fitzgerald's wealth stands as both an advantage and an obstacle that can't be spin-doctored away.

Wealthy candidates make for great political entertainment, but they don't often win, especially in Illinois.

Nevertheless, with the help of campaign workers such as Ms. Gillespie -- a nationally ranked tennis player during high school in the early 1990s -- the conservative state senator and banking scion from Inverness is starting to score points with mainstream corporate GOP donors.

It's one of several signs that Mr. Fitzgerald has been running a quiet but smart campaign since he spent $7 million out of his pocket to defeat Illinois Comptroller Loleta Didrickson in the primary.

Campaign finance reports due this week will show that some big-name Illinois executives have joined the Fitzgerald bandwagon, including two of Ms. Didrickson's finance co-chairmen -- Caterpillar Inc.'s Donald Fites and Amoco Corp.'s H. Laurance Fuller -- as well as Harry Crisp II of Marion Pepsi-Cola Bottling Co.

"Harry who?" you might say. His presence is significant because he's a key Downstate fund-raiser for Gov. Jim Edgar and other party leaders who thought Ms. Didrickson would have been a stronger candidate against the incumbent -- but highly vulnerable -- Democrat, Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun.

The problem for Mr. Fitzgerald -- to the extent that it could be a problem for any candidate whose net worth exceeds $25 million -- is that the vast majority of executives are still sitting this one out.

It's not a matter of ideology. Although much of the business community is quite comfortable with the incumbent, there's no doubt they'd prefer a Republican whose pro-business views are undiluted by the need for labor support.

The question, then, is whether 1998 will be a replay of 1996, when another conservative upset the party favorite and then won business support only to self-destruct in the fall.

There's even a political shorthand for it: "How is he going to say, 'I'm not Al Salvi'?" says a decisionmaker for one major business political action committee weighing an endorsement in the race.

Mr. Fitzgerald has conserved his resources, spent time raising money and grass-roots support and avoided mistakes. No media darling, he hasn't wasted time trying to get on the evening news.

Recently, however, he agreed to debates, but put off any planning on dates and format until after Labor Day, which suggests he has more to lose than gain from letting voters hear his views in conjunction with Ms. Moseley-Braun's, early and often.

In a race this unsettled, it's a position only a rich candidate could afford to take.